Professor Layton and the Magician's Secret
by Maz The Mighty
Summary: When a community in a small English town is found massacred with only a note and no evidence left behind, the esteemed Professor Layton is on the case. Having to deal with an imitator of one of his past cases, will he be able to stop the culprit? /Set after Diabolical Box and before Unwound Future/
1. Prologue

Streetlamps were turning on now, night falling quickly. Stars began to appear, and soon the streets hustle-and-bustle slowed to only a few people. Cars still occasionally flew past, heading off somewhere in the dark, but generally it was quiet. Most people had closed up shop, but inside a small and closed down theater, there was a woman. A stranger to the town's peaceful appearance, she was determined to pull off a great feat.

Pacing back and forth on the old wooden stage, her heels making clacking noises against the boards, the woman thought. Her eyes were shut tight in concentration, mumbling incoherent words under her breath and shaking her head. She had to make sure her plan would go smoothly, or else _he_ wouldn't show up. It had to be big, it had to be _bad_. It had to blow minds. Or very least, blow someone up.

The woman laughed to herself, thinking of what would go down tomorrow. She would set up for her show, like normal, and proceed. _The audience will certainly be in for a show_ , she thought. She had bought the town's trust, using her sickeningly sweet facade. It was always easier to fool idiots by acting kind, and so she had them like flies in honey, waiting for their quick demise. Once she set her plan into action, she would be over the news, once again. Oh, how she loved the thrill of being famous, for the worst reasons though. It just made it more fun.

Her eyes snapped open, hearing the sound of something moving. She looked around, and finally down to the ground. Fortunately, it was just a mouse. No cops to ruin the surprise of the show, not until tomorrow. Moving towards it, the mouse skittered away, hiding in one of the many cracks in the flooring. She had to crack a smile at that, the mouse unknowing of how it would end, just like everyone on this miserable planet, even herself.

Making her way over to a makeshift vanity, she smiled in the mirror. She brushed her dusty brown hair over her shoulder, before picking up a small top hat with a rose pinned to it. She adjusted it onto her head, having it tilt slightly to the side while she read a few newspaper clipping she had taped onto the mirror

"Mysterious Woman Sets Mayor Ablaze." was the heading of one. It showed her in one of her disguises, a headshot, beside a picture of the show. Oh, she remembered that one. It was one of her favourite tricks, and the way the audience screamed left a warm feeling. It could've been the fire, but still.

"Murderous Magician on the Loose Once Again." read another. It described how she had escaped from a little county prison some buffoons had kept her in. It was pretty easy to get out, the guards were stupid anyways. They didn't even both to look if she had actually escaped before opening the cell door. The memory left a smile on her face.

But one was different from the rest. It wasn't about her, or another one of her tricks. The heading said "Dark Miracles stopped by Professor Layton" The story was about how an archeology professor had stopped a man called the Masked Gentleman, who was terrorizing a town with so called Dark Miracles. She already knew they were all tricks, but from what she had seen, this Masked Gentleman was to be admired. When she had a television while living in a motel, she had watched news coverings about the case, reading up about him online as well. His tricks were much better than her own, more entertaining, grander than hers ever were. She strived to make her magic as magnificent as his were, studying every trick he had ever done to imitate it. She could never get it perfect though, much to her dismay.

She fluffed her hair, shaking herself out of her thoughts. She couldn't just get caught up in that right now, she had a magic show to plan. Like most magicians, she couldn't ever disclose how she did her tricks, but she liked to think she had something a bit different from the rest of them.

Noticing the mouse come back out, sniffing around, a smirk spread across her face. She snapped her gloved fingers, watching as the spot where the mouse stood envelop it in flames. None of the surrounding wood caught fire, but in seconds the mouse was just a black corpse, it's writhing body now still. She made her way over to it, picking up what had been a living rodent seconds before. Smiling slightly, she whispered something to it.

"What a small insignificant life you had. Thank you for volunteering, little mouse, it must have been an honour to perform for me."

She held the burnt mouse in her hands, carrying it over to a barely boarded up exit. Tossing it through one of the holes in the wood, she dusted her gloves off, flicking a light switch. The few lights in the theatre turned off, except for a spotlight. To an imaginary audience, the woman gave a bow, before straightening up and saying clearly,

"Thank you, for attending the show of the great Carmilla LaRoux!"


	2. Chapter 1

_The Next Day..._

* * *

London wasn't the quietest in the early afternoon, people wandering about and cars driving past. Still, it hadn't woken Hershel Layton until about 1 in the afternoon. Thankfully, it was a Saturday, which meant no classes to teach. The fleeting bit of panic faded, and he gave a sigh of relief. Being late was certainly not what a gentleman would do. But he was awake, so there wasn't any use staying in bed. He could brew some tea and then sit down to check the news, before going out to restock on groceries.

The professor made himself some tea, saving a bit for Luke when he came by ( hopefully soon, or else it'd get cold ), and moved to sit on the couch in front of a little television. Turning it on, Layton took a sip from his cup as the first bit of morning news played. Nothing too interesting, just a bit of weather ( it was supposed to rain later in the day ) and something about London Yard. But just as he was about to go and read yesterday's paper, which he hadn't finished the day before, a little banner reading, "Breaking News" appeared on the bottom of the screen. A young man was standing in front of a town's sign, apparently Brooksville from what the professor could read. In the background there seemed to be a burnt house, and the reporter began to speak.

"This is Sean Schaf, reporting from Brooksville, a small town on the outskirts of London. This morning, the town and majority of it's citizens were found burnt to a crisp. There was no evidence left, but a small note card on the scene. Police will not disclose what it said at the time."

Shock was evident on the professor's face as the reporter continued, showing images of the scene. Which were quite gruesome, to be honest. Apparently, there hadn't been any suspects so far, and most of the living townspeople had fled. It was almost like a ghost town, and all in the course of a day. The professor was about to keep watching, before a phone rang. Getting up off the couch, he picked up the phone and cleared his throat, preparing to speak before another voice cut him off.

"Layton? We need you at the station. There's something we need ta show you." A gruff voice said, familiar at that. Layton immediately recognized it as Inspector Chelmey's. Thinking he might just leave it at that, he quickly responded.

"Inspector? Does this happen involve the case I saw on the news the morning?" He asked, his fingers tapping against the table used to keep the telephone. A slight guffaw was heard from the other end, before he got his answer.

"That intuition of yours never fails, don't it? You're right, it's about that whole "town burstin' int' flames incident. There's some things we need checked out."

The professor nodded, saying "Alright, I'll be there right away Inspector." before hanging the phone up. Taking his top hat and adjusting it on his head, he took his keys and went on his way. In case Luke came by and he wasn't back yet, Layton scribbled a note for him, along with a puzzle on how to get into the flat. Smiling to himself, the professor was sure he'd get a kick out of that. He stuck it to the door, locked it, and hurried to his car (which they had lovingly dubbed "The Laytonmobile" ). Starting it up, he began to make his way down to London Yard. The last thing he wanted to do was keep Chelmey waiting.

Parking in the front, the Professor made sure to lock his beloved vehicle before heading inside to Chelmey's office. The inspector was waiting sitting at his desk and flipping through a file. Barton was next to him, leaning over his shoulder to look and chewing a doughnut. As Layton cleared his throat, Barton gave a startled jump and Chelmey just sighed and looked up, irritated with his partner's behavior.

"Afternoon, Layton. From what we discussed on th' phone, I'm guessing ya already know a bit 'bout what happened in Brooksville." He paused waiting for the professor to confirm this and let him continue. After he nodded, Chelmey went on, "We didn't let the news know about any details yet, the only thing they know about is that note and what they can see. But we thought you should see this." He stopped, pulling a small piece of paper from the file and sliding it across the desk. The Professor picked it up, noticing the surprising lack of burn marks on it before reading it over.

 **"To those who f ind my note,**  
 **I hope that the show left you amazed**  
 **shocked would work too, though.**  
 **This is on ly the opening act,**  
 **I have many more tricks up my s leeves.**  
 **Especially for my esteemed guest,**  
 **Professo r Hershel Layton.**  
 **Do come to the show tonight, when you get the chance.**  
 **I'm very excited to show off some magic  
at exactly 9pm.  
See you there, it'll be a blast!**

 **Sincerely, Secrets."**

Looking back at the inspector, and to the note again, the professor placed it back on the desk. This person could be anyone, and the way the wrote reminded him of an old case. But the culprit behind that couldn't be the very same, no, this had to be an imitator. Unfortunately, he and the Yard had dealt with some before. All of them idolized some past criminal, deciding to carry on the legacy for some reason or another. But what was different about this one, is it seemed they wanted to be found.

"Inspector, you noticed the certain letters underlined, correct?" He asked, moving his hand to his chin as Chelmey spoke.

"Oy we did. Didn't think much of 'em though. What d' you have in mind about 'em?" He asked, Barton nodding his head in agreement with the question, mouth full of doughnut. Layton took a spare piece of paper from a stack, writing down each underlined letter.

 **ISLLIEREV**

Chelmey leaned forward to get a look at what he had wrote, raising an eyebrow before Layton spoke again. "I believe this is an anagram, and not just a bunch or "random" letters or a coincidence. Grabbing a pencil once again, the Professor began to write out a word.

 **SIERVILLE**

Chelmey nodded, reading what he had written. "There's a town called Sierville next t' Brooksville. Or what used t' be Brooksville anyways." He grunted, causing Layton to nod.

"I believe that is where this, "Secrets" is planning on striking next. They seem to be leading us for them, so I'd be cautious. Who knows what they might be planning." He said, moving a hand from his chin and back to his side. Chelmey nodded, mumbling to Barton about getting a squad over there and watching him salute and rush off. He turned back to Layton, giving a heavy chuckle.

"Once again, figuring out everything we aren't. You'll be coming with?"

"Of course, Inspector."


End file.
